


The Alters

by cuilleres



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels, Angst?, Demons, Fluff, M/M, Minecraft, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:00:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28276485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuilleres/pseuds/cuilleres
Summary: George is an angel who has never been to earth. On his first mission to earth he meets an infamous demon called Dream. They team up to investigate the disappearances of their fellow angels and demons. As they uncover secrets that they were never meant to know, they grow closer.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome to my first ever fanfic lol. I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Ps: this is in no way related to real life, I respect the content creators and their boundaries. If anyone mentioned in this story says that they are uncomfortable with it then I will take it down. Enjoy!

Prologue:

At the top a peak too tall to reach sat a hunched figure who was wrapped in silence. The cliff was lit only by the faint glow emitted from the boy. Far below, the lights of the usually busy city were dark for the first time, and short bursts of white light could be seen dotting the landscape.  
From behind the figure came the crunch of footsteps. He did not turn around, he already knew who it was and why they were there . A soft tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a streak in the ash and dirt that coated his face.  
The footsteps stopped. He turned around and the first thing he saw was the bright silver sword held pointed toward him. He looked up at the person and smiled weakly.  
The man opposing him lifted his eyes from the ground and looked directly at him. In a shaky voice the attacker said only one thing, “I’m sorry.”


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George receives his first assignment :)

From his perch on the edge of the cliff, George had a perfect birds eye view of the city below. He hoped that one day he would walk in that city instead of just seeing it from above. He could see many birds from his position in the sky, and he wished that he could one day be as free as they were. It had been many millions of years ago when the birds had been created. That day was one he had remembered for the entirety of his long immortal life. Since their creation, he had always loved the birds and had watched them intently.

After many years of watching the birds a new species came along. Humans had become the perfect vessels for him and his kind, but aside from that he enjoyed keeping an eye on them. They had so many flaws, yet they had so many feelings that he had never before experienced, and these emotions were so strong. Some days he would be seated on the edge of his cliff and would be struck by an intense feeling, sometimes joyous, sometimes heartbreaking. The other angels were never influenced by these bursts of feeling, yet another thing that George could keep to himself. He had few secrets, but the ones he held were kept close to his heart.

George's cliff, despite its height, was the lowest point of heaven. It was carpeted in soft grass and dotted with flowers. George had discovered the haven one day while trying to find a place where he could watch over his favorite city. it seemed no one else knew of this serene place and it soon became a place of refuge for him.

It was one of four secrets he kept. The first was his empathetic ability, a secret that he did not mind keeping. The second was one he did not like, his second secret was that he could not see in full color. The third was a secret that even he did not know, one that had been told to him a very long time ago. Now as he sat and thought about the three secrets he knew, he thought to himself, “No wonder you haven’t been sent out yet, this is your own fault.” He had not left heaven since before the creation of man, and he was desperate to walk on earth again.

He could faintly hear the rumble of life drifting up from the city below, and many emotions were wafting their way up to him. He could feel the joy of proposal and the grief of death, but he understood none of these feelings. He had never lost anyone, he had never felt love.

A cold breeze blew through his mind, echoing for a few moments before dissolving into the sweet voice of Nikki. “George, where are you?” she asked softly, “Phil is looking for you.” George cursed lightly under his breath and then scolded himself for the profanities.

“I’ll be there in a minute, thank you Nikki,” he replied. If Phil was looking for him, that could mean one of two things: he had been assigned a new position in heaven, or he was being sent to earth. his heart leapt and he began to imagine what earth would be like up close and what his assignment would be.

To save time he flew to headquarters instead of walking, and he flashed from his haven to headquarters in an instant. The tall quartz tower stretched upward and the sun reflected off the crystalline glass casting rainbows into the air and onto the main path. The door swung open automatically as he walked into the busy foyer. Angels swarmed everywhere, some holding files and some boxes. The room was a bright white and there was no trace of the huge windows that could be seen from outside. The ceilings were tall, and from the roof, a million tiny crystals were hung.

From the other side of the room, came a call of George's name. The angel who had called him was phil, the overseer of heaven and therefore all the angels. He was a kind and humorous angel, and many people enjoyed his company. He wore a long tan coat and had floppy blond hair that was topped in a green and white hat. He beckoned George over to him with the wave of his hand.

“George, there you are, I've been looking for you,” he said with a smile in his voice.

“I’m so sorry,” George stuttered, “I was just-“

“No matter,” Phil interrupted, “We need to talk.” George understood by his tone that this was a serious matter, and that serious matters were discussed in private.

Phil drew a small object from the folds of his coat. The object was a small crystal, made from the same material as the chandelier. The chandelier had a greater purpose than just pleasing the eye, however. The crystals acted as pathways to the locked parts of heaven, each hanging crystal representing one human soul in heaven, and if you had the matching crystal you could be transported to their memories. It was a common way for angels to talk in private and these rooms were often used for meetings. 

Phil held out the crystal and George placed his hand on top of it. His stomach filled with butterflies and he closed his eyes, wind rushed against his face for a few moments before it stopped. He peeled his eyes open and found himself in a lush forest. He was standing over a family, two daughters and a father sat at a picnic bench. The girls were singing a silly song while their father watched with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes. The soft feeling of melancholy mixed with love caressed his cheek and he wanted nothing more than to lean into it. “George.” He turned around to see Phil sitting at the picnic table behind him. He sat down across from him and crossed his arms on the table.

“Who are they?” he asked, nodding his head towards the family. Phil smiled softly.

“A family. the man had just lost his wife and he decided to take his daughters out to the forest where they had met.” George's heart fluttered, he finally had been given context for one of his feelings.

“What happened to him, I assume if he’s here he must be dead.”

“He died peacefully, about 30 years after this memory. He was able to see both of his daughters grow into young women and was remarried to a lovely woman who took care of his daughters after he passed. He lived a long happy life.” George nodded, content with the answer.

“What did we need to speak about?'' George asked, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice. Phil took a deep breath and looked into George's eyes.

“We have an assignment for you.” George's breath caught in his chest.

“What type of assignment?” his voice rose higher as excitement began to spill up out of his heart.

“We are sending you to earth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Hope you enjoyed chapter one, don't worry its going to get more interesting :)  
> I would love to get some constructive criticism on this too! <3
> 
> ps. I had to reupload this chapter, the formatting was weird.


	3. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George prepares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays, enjoy the new chapter!

“What,” he whispered, mostly to himself. Then, louder he repeated, “What?”

The side of Phil’s mouth quirked up into a sly smirk, and he made a small noise of affirmation. Elation rose in George's throat, excitement from decades of waiting crept up his spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. A small smile crept up onto George's face, and it was so infectious that it made Phil smile too. “After so long, Why?” George asked, still smiling. The smile faded from Phil's face.

“We have a situation.” the excitement faded and a string of worry began to unwind in his chest. Phil wasn’t usually like this, and when he was it was always something serious.

“What happened?” Phil's hand clenched and he lowered his gaze to the ground.

“Angels are going missing,” Phil flicked his eyes back up to meet George's, George opened his mouth to respond when Phil cut him off, “Yesterday, we found an imprint.” His words died in his mouth.

The Imprint was the sign of a dead angel. When they took their last breath, a bright light would flash and leave a charred outline of huge feathery wings. Everything within a five foot radius would be burned and destroyed.

“What did this?” George said with disgust in his voice. Angels were difficult to kill, so only something truly powerful could’ve ended one of the divine beings.

“We have found signs of,” Phil choked on his words, “demonic activity in the area where the Imprint was found.” All the blood drained from George’s face. If demonic activity had begun right before the death of an angel, there could only be one answer to his previous question. The demons were hunting angels again.

“Why have I been chosen for this? I haven’t been down in ages-” George had begun to ramble when Phil silenced him with a look. Phil reached for his hands and took them in his own.

“George,” He began, “This is a crucial mission, and you are one of the brightest we have. I need you to descend into the city and look for the demons that killed our brethren.” George nodded fiercely. “Tonight, you will descend into the city of Orlando, and George, you will avenge our fallen.”

* * *

George stood in the center of an ancient library staring at the ceiling. It’s tall domed ceilings seemed to stretch infinitely into the sky, and carved into it were intricate scenes. The walls were lined with dark oak shelves filled with books. Matching tables lined the aisles between shelves. Not only was the library tall, it also extended further than George could see. It was a place that housed all knowledge, even some that had been lost to the world. Every text ever written could be found in this room and it was open to any angel. 

This meant that his friends could be anywhere in this great expanse of paper and leather, but George knew exactly where they were. He closed his eyes and reappeared in the middle of the “R” section. Even from where he stood he could hear them. The infectious giggle of Karl, the sweet twinkling chuckle of Nikki, and the gasping laugh of Tubbo. 

He walked swiftly towards the laughter and saw the three angels sitting cross legged huddled around Karl, who held a copy of the second Harry Potter book. Nikki was the first to notice him.

“George!” she called out in a cheerful voice. The other two whipped their heads towards him. They waved and yelled out greetings. George walked the rest of the way over to them and sat down. 

“Hello everyone,” he said in a happy voice, but there were noticeable hints of anxiety and tension. 

“George, not to be rude, but what happened, are you ok?” Tubbo asked. George tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

“I am being sent on a mission to Earth.” The other three angels broke out into cheers and Karl gave him a quick side hug. 

“That's amazing! Why are they finally sending you?” Karl questioned, the excitement ripe in his voice. George's eyes flicked to the side, making sure there was no one else to hear their conversation. He probably shouldn’t even be telling them this, but they were his friends and he couldn’t hide anything from them. They all looked at him expectantly as if to say “Well?”

“Angels have been going missing,” he admitted, “and an Imprint was found yesterday.” The smiles drained from their faces and Nikki’s face went pale.

“What happened to them?” Tubbo asked. George shook his head.

“Demons, at least that's what Phil thinks.” They nodded their heads, that answer had been expected, because what else could have killed an angel?

“Well, I can’t think of a better person for the job,” and if sensing his anxiety about being sent she elaborated, “Phil made the right choice.” A small smile worked its way onto his face as Karl and Tubbo agreed.

“Do you leave today?” Karl questioned. George nodded. Nikki stood and offered George her hand to help him up.

“If you are leaving tonight we should probably get you ready.” George raised his eyebrow and she smiled, “You need to blend in.”

* * *

This is how twenty minutes later, George found himself in a large room filled with clothes and mirrors. He walked through the racks, running his hand across the different fabrics, while Tubbo sat on a stool and kicked his legs back and forth. Karl had been called to help the angels in Headquarters sort through the new souls coming in. This was a task often assigned to Karl, he had a skill in reading people.

“Why are we here again?” he asked. From across the room, Nikki popped up from behind a silver rack, her arms laden with garments.

“I told you, you need to blend in,” a realization struck her when George only seemed more confused, “Right, you haven’t been close up to humans in a while. You need an outfit that won’t stick out.” George walked up to a mirror and studied his current attire. A long sleeved white button up and white dress pants, he didn’ see anything wrong with it. Nikki sighed, “That isn’t exactly in style right now.” George knew this wasn’t a battle he could win, and so he let Nikki usher him behind a curtain and have him try on outfits for her and Tubbo to critique.

The first was a bright colored shirt and electric blue athletic shorts, the clothes sagged off of his thin frame. When he emerged from the curtain Nikki grimaced and Tubbo gave a simple thumbs down.

The next outfit was slightly better. Tan pants with a white collared shirt and a long black coat. He stepped out and this time the outfit was considered. Nikki motioned for him to turn with her hand and he gave a little twirl that he immediately felt silly for doing. After some contemplation, Nikki shook her head and gave one comment. “Too….. lawyer-ey,” she criticized.

“What's a lawyer?” George whispered to himself once he was behind the curtain again.

Several outfits later, they came to a compromise. A pale blue sweater over top of the collared shirt with some nice jeans and white sneakers.

George looked in the mirror again, but this time he studied his face. He blinked in surprise when he first saw himself, he hadn’t seen his vessel in a long time. George had an angular pale face, with brown hair and brown eyes, he assumed that he looked quite average compared to other humans.

“Let's get you to Earth, then,” Nikki offered her hand to George and Tubbo. They all joined hands and an instant later a swift wind had carried them away.

* * *

When they appeared at heaven's exit, Phil was waiting for them. He clutched a worn leather messenger bag and stood on top of a stone platform with intricate carved runes. George had stood in front of this platform many times to watch his fellow angels take off on their missions, and today after so many years it would be his turn.

George released Nikki and Tubbo's hands and climbed up the steps of the platform to face Phil. Phil extended the bag to him and he took it. It contained three objects. Phil reached into the bag and took them out one by one.

“A phone,” he said, holding up the first item, “It has a few numbers already in it, call them if you are confused or in danger.” The rectangular box had glass on one side and when Phil pressed the small round button at the bottom it lit up and displayed an image of a cityscape, much like the one that George had spent decades staring at. The next object was a crystal, similar to the ones that hung from the roof of headquarters, but it was not translucent, it was tinted a faint blue. “This is your way back to Heaven if anything goes wrong and you can’t get back to the entrance. All you need to do is close your eyes and imagine the place you want to be.” George nodded, “and this,” Phil said, pulling the final object out of the bag, “is the most important.” It was a long silver blade carved with runes and jewels pressed into the handle, it emitted a soft silver glow, and when Phil handed it to George it was cold and sleek.

“What is it?” George asked.

“This is the weapon of an angel. It is your protection and you are its protector, never let anything happen to this blade, do you hear me?” George nodded and Phil took the blade out of his hand and put it back into the bag. “It’s time for you to go.” He led George to the center of the platform and nodded at him.

George closed his eyes and let his body be enveloped by a warm breeze. When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in heaven. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this chapter so many times lol.  
> also, if this reminds you of supernatural shhhhhh no it doesn't   
> as always constructive criticism is welcome (I really need some for this chapter)  
>  happy holidays <3


	4. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George begins his investigation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are on a streak! enjoy the new chapter :)

The first thing George noticed about his new surroundings was the dizzying amount of feeling. He was standing in front of a busy road, cars rushing by, and people swarming around him. Each person's emotion flooded into him, warm and real, he had never been so overwhelmed. George's eyes drank in all the people and buildings around him, and for a moment he allowed himself to just observe.

He lifted his head and gazed at the skyline that he had spent so many years studying. George had never dreamt that he would one day be up close to the buildings and people that had always fascinated him. Everything had always looked so small and blurry from his cliff, but now everything was large and intricate.

George could see the alleyways that snaked around buildings and the cracks in the concrete sidewalk, everything had an allure that he couldn’t resist. He could feel himself being drawn to the alleyways in particular, and trusting his feelings followed the pull into the alleyway directly behind him.

As he traveled further into the dark passage, the rumblings of life began to quiet. Suddenly, the feeling began to crumble into something darker. Something screamed at him to turn back, but a smaller more confident voice urged him to go on. After walking a few more feet the smell of ash filled his nose. George stopped walking and glanced down. There, burnt into the concrete floor was the Imprint he had been told of.

George dropped down to his knees and brushed his hand across the darkened shape. A new feeling hit him like a brick wall. Terrible crippling fear overcame him and closed off his throat. He tore his hand off of the Imprint and scrambled back until he felt his back hit a wall. George knew that he had just picked up on the final emotions of the fallen angel. He pushed out a few shaky breaths before he stood and moved back to the Imprint.

The wings were distorted and broken up as if they had been damaged prior to the angel's death, and the positioning of the Imprint indicated that there were multiple attackers. George's eyes roved over the charred scene, taking in every detail. His eyes caught on something carved into the Imprint, right at the point where the wings would have been fastened to the angel's back. A small curved rune was etched into the floor. George tilted his head in confusion, it didn’t look like any demonic symbol he had seen, and demons were far too calculating to identify themselves with a mark. He traced over the mark with his finger, careful to not place his hand on the Imprint.

A small sound echoed from the shadowy area on George's right, and his head snapped to look into the darkness. The figure standing there was virtually invisible, except for a brief flash of their eyes. George's hand crept slowly down to the leather messenger bag, where his blade was stored. Once his hand was clasped around the handle of his weapon, he snapped his whole body to face the shadowed cove.

“Come out,” he called, “ I know someone is there.” George pushed confidence into his tone that he hoped would discourage the creature from seeking a fight. No reply came, however, and so he began to slowly walk closer, not taking his eyes off of the spot where he had seen the glowing eyes.

He peered into the corner, bracing himself to see some violent being, but the shadows held no secrets. The hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up, and he turned around just in time to be slammed back into the wall. George’s blade clattered to the floor and the attacker kicked it away. George cursed under his breath. This is when got his first good look at the figure. They were tall and cloaked in a greenish-yellow jacket with the hood pulled up over their head. Covering their face was a round mask with a disturbing smile and two small eye holes cut in it.

They held their forearm against the base of George's neck and kept an even pressure, not enough to hurt him but enough to keep him still. For a moment George just stared before remembering that this was most likely the thing that killed his fellow angel. He swung his fist at the demon's head and managed to get the hood to fall back, revealing blonde hair. A second swing knocked the mask loose. It slid off the demon's face and hit the floor with a resounding clatter. Both watched the mask fall then slowly lifted their heads to look the other in the eyes. George studied the demon's face in awe. For being so evil, why did he look so incredibly... good? He had strong cheekbones and soft pink lips, and his eyes were a yellowy color. His cheeks were flushed and his breath came out in short huffs. For several moments they stayed like this, staring at each other, until the demon spoke.

“Why is an angel here?” he asked, his tone curious, but not malignant. George’s heart was beating impossibly fast, and despite his nerves, he decided to play it off casually.

“Why is a demon here?” he replied, “assuming that’s what you are.” The blonde only smirked. “And why do I immediately think I’m an angel?”

“I’m here for the same reason you are, I’m looking,” he said in a smooth voice, “as for your other question, a beautiful face like yours could only be from heaven.” He finished the statement with a wink. George's face flushed red and his eyes widened. The blonde wheezed lightly.

“I’m kidding, it was pretty obvious when you pulled out that,” he said, jerking his head towards where the silver sword lay discarded on the floor. George sighed inwardly and cursed his stupidity.

“Are you going to kill me?” George asked, as casually as if he had asked what time it was. The demon only shrugged slightly, he was strangely friendly for being a murderous demon. His defenses were lowered and George could sense tendrils of feeling beginning to fill his mind. He knew that despite him being an angel, the demon would not kill him. A calm expression settled on his face. The demon cocked his head.

“Why are you not afraid? When I do this to someone they’re usually afraid.” George smirked.

“I’m not afraid to die,” that was partly a lie, “and you wouldn’t kill me.” The demon scowled.

“What makes you think that?” he said in an annoyed voice.

“There’s no benefit, you can’t make anything out of my death and if I know one thing about demons is that they always are looking to gain something out of death. To create an advantage for themselves.”

“What I create is chaos,” The blonde said smiling with his straight white teeth.

“But in all chaos, there is calculation,” George retorted. The demon scoffed.

“You aren’t like any angel I've met. You aren’t as,” he gestured his free hand around, “uptight.” George only rolled his eyes. The demon opened his mouth to speak again when a voice called out from behind them.

“Dream?” the voice called in a young-sounding voice, “Wilbur thinks he's found something.” Dream’s head snapped back to look in the direction of the voice and under his breath he cursed. George took the opportunity to throw his knee into the demon's stomach. Dream groaned and bent forward, taking his arm off of George’s chest, giving him time to get away from him. He scooped his blade off the floor and dug through the bag to find the crystal. Dream stared at him with shock written all over his face. He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it, only casting one last look at Dream before throwing down the crystal and vanishing in a flash of light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains the two things I'm worst at, dialogue and fight scenes lol
> 
> as always constructive criticism is accepted and appreciated
> 
> much love to those of you who left kudos and comments, I didn't think I would ever get this much support :)
> 
> (if i do the same thing i did today there should be another chapter tomorrow)


	5. chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George meets with Phil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write a bunch of chapters in advance so that I don't have to spend hours writing each day :) enjoy the new chapter!

Dream. The name echoed through George’s mind as he walked down the moonlit path to headquarters. Not just the demon's name, but his words and actions too. Why had he been so friendly? Why wasn’t George dead? Who was the person that called to him and what were they looking for? His thoughts were so potent that he could barely remember the walk to headquarters.

When he arrived, he immediately requested an audience with Phil, but he was apparently busy and the angel George was talking to refused to call him.

“I need to speak to him, please,” George was practically begging at this point, but the angel still wasn’t budging.

“I told you, he is busy, I can try-” the angel never got to finish, however.

“George?” Phil stood behind him, a worried expression on his face, “Are you alright?” George sighed in relief.

“I’m fine, but we need to talk, now.” To George's relief, Phil nodded and pulled a crystal out of his coat. George placed his hand on the crystal and they were instantly transported into a new memory.

This time, they materialized on a pier that stretched out over a dark sea. It was nighttime and the lights of the boardwalk reflected off the water.

“So what happened?” Phil leaned back against the railing of the pier. George took a deep breath to gather his thoughts before responding.

“I found the Imprint you told me about,” George closed his eyes as the echo of terror resonated within him, “It felt...horrible, and then…” Something stopped him from continuing, a little voice, similar to the one that had pushed him onwards in the alley, urged him not to tell Phil the whole truth. “I heard talking, I followed the voices down an alley and found what I think were two demons,” internally George was screaming. Why had he lied? Why did he allow the voice to have such a huge sway over his actions?

“What were they saying?” Phil's voice snapped him back to the current situation.

“I think they were looking for something,” George said, “They used two names.” Phil nodded and gestured for George to continue. “One of the names was Dream,” saying the name sent a shiver down George’s spine, Phil didn’t look surprised, just disappointed. “And the second?” Phil asked. “The second name was Wilbur,” Phil’s face paled. His eyes fell to the floor.

“Surely not,” he mumbled underneath his breath. A brief wave of pain crossed his face before he stoned himself and looked to George. “Was there anything else?” George shook his head. “Then it's time for you to go back to Earth.”

* * *

Once again, George found himself in an ancient library, waiting. He was seated at one of the many tables and had spread out as many resources as he could find about demons. He was hoping that he could learn more about Dream and find out who Wilbur was, but now he was hours deep in research, and he only had a few hours until he had to go back to Earth.

And so, he had made a call. He had called an angel who was a well-known warrior and was legendary for his knowledge on all topics. George waited patiently, sitting cross-legged in a chair, reading a book about demonic lore, but it held no mention of Dream or Wilbur.

“George?” George swiveled around in his seat and saw an angel wearing a hooded cloak.

“Bad?” George asked.

“That’s me,” the angel responded in a sweet tone, one that did not fit all the stories that had been told about him. He smiled at George and pulled out a chair to sit next to him. “So,” he exclaimed, “What is it that you need to know.” George smiled and began to explain.

“Dream, huh? I haven’t heard that one in a while. He caused some real problems for us a while back.”

“I need to know everything,” George implored.

“Well, it won’t take very long, we don’t know very much about him. As far as we know, he was one of the first demons ever created, and one of the strongest too. After Lucifer was locked away, he ran things for a while, at least until Wilbur came along.”

“Oh, I need to know about Wil-” Bad silenced him with a hand.

“I know you muffin, give me a minute,” George looked away sheepishly, “As I was saying, Dream is one of the strongest we have ever seen. He did some serious damage a while ago, and Heaven sent out a huge manhunt after him, but we never could catch him.”

“We?”

“Yes we, I was a part of one of the most successful groups, but no matter what we did, he was always one step ahead of us, we never even saw his face.”

“No one has seen his face?” Bad shook his head.

“The few times we saw him he was always wearing this mask,” George sucked in a breath, “After a while of us hunting him, he just stopped, he went back to Hell, and we celebrated, but we were being played. Of course, this is when everything happened with Wilbur.” Bad scratched his head in contemplation, “Where to begin with Wilbur, most likely at the beginning. Wilbur was created shortly after the archangels and he was almost as powerful. You know Phil, he's a kind soul, he took Wil under his wing, acted like his father. Then many years later, after humanity was created, Phil told Wilbur something, he was fathering the first Nephilim, a half-angel half-human. Wilbur was ecstatic, but after the Nephilim was born, something changed. He began to grow bitter against Phil. Then, he just left, took the Nephilim with him, and fled to Hell. Phil was devastated, naturally, even more so when he learned Dream had helped him and then given him the Throne. Hasn’t spoken about him since.” George was shocked, he had never known about Wilbur or his escape.

“Why is it that I don’t remember Wilbur? I was existent at that time,” Bad cocked his head.

“No one ever seems to remember Wil, he’s faded into the background I suppose.” George hummed as he racked his mind for any prior memories of the rogue angel, but he couldn’t remember anything. “If that's all, I should be going, I have another meeting.”

“Thank you for your help Bad, I owe you.” Bad smirked slightly before bounding off in the direction of the exit.

George sat and stared at his hands, he had seen Dream’s face and that was something that perhaps no other angel had done before him. A strange feeling built in his stomach, this feeling told George that he would encounter Dream again, but he did not now realize how soon their next meeting would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that chapter took me a very long time, I actually skipped it and wrote some of the other chapters first  
> as always constructive criticism is accepted and appreciated!  
> I might post another chapter tonight as an apology for making you wait :)
> 
> Another thank you to all of you who left comments and kudos, much love <3  
> (question: is this moving too fast?)


	6. chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George meet again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 2021! enjoy the new chapter <3

The city was quite different at sunrise than it was at dusk. It buzzed with the quiet energy of early-risers, and most of the emotion George was picking up radiated with the peaceful bliss of sleep. The sky was stained a light blue, and the horizon was brushed with what George assumed was pink. An aura of silence and calm cloaked the city, interrupted only by the occasional car or bird. George felt strangely at peace despite the crucial mission he had been assigned.

George was walking down the sidewalk, contemplating his best course of action when he felt a familiar presence. He scanned the road and sidewalk ahead of him, but none of the people he saw were responsible for his alertness. As he walked past a glass storefront, he stole a look back and realized who he was sensing.

Perhaps twenty-five feet behind him, a tall man was trailing him, a yellow hood pulled up to cover his head. His head was tilted at just the right angle to completely conceal his face, more importantly, the smiley mask he wore. George grimaced slightly. Dream was following him.

An idea popped into his head, and he veered off the main street back into the alleyways. He followed the path straight back until it took a sharp right turn, the perfect spot for him to wait. So he leaned up against the rough brick wall and listened for footsteps. After a few minutes of complete silence, George began to wonder if he had been mistaken about the tall man. He was about to backtrack to the road when he heard the soft patter of quiet feet on concrete. As the footsteps drew closer, George prepared himself.

Dream rounded the corner and was immediately pushed back into a wall, George’s blade held close to his throat. George reached out and pulled the mask off of his face, revealing that it was indeed Dream. To George's surprise, the demon smirked at him.

“Why are you following me?” George asked, a subtle annoyance trickling into his words.

“I wanted to finish our wonderful conversation from yesterday,” he said sarcastically.

“And what makes you think I want to talk to you? Your kind is hunting down and killing angels.” Dream raised his brows in confusion. “You saw the Imprint yesterday.”

“That death wasn’t caused by a demon.”

“Why would I believe that?” George asked, his voice shifting from annoyance to irritation.

“Because angels aren’t the only things going missing.”

“What?” The hand holding the blade to Dream's throat faltered and then dropped.

“We really do need to talk.”

* * *

The rich scent of coffee combined with the honeyed hues of the cafe brought a small light into George’s heart. After so many years of just watching, he was finally able to experience it, and he found that even the smallest things give him a rush of happiness.

A small wheeze came from his side, effectively ripping the awe off of George’s face and replacing it with a scowl. Dream wheezed again before dragging George further into the shop. Dream sat George down in a velvety blue chair before rushing over to the counter. He is greeted by a barista with long (purple) hair and thick eyeliner. He can faintly hear the conversation, and from what he can tell, the woman is cussing Dream out, in a friendly way. Dream orders “his usual”, which the woman apparently knows. She beckoned over to where George sat and asked what he wanted with a smirk. He very clearly hears Dreams' response.

“He’ll have an apple juice,” George wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but he could tell from the way Dream and the barista laughed that he was being mocked. He scowled at the two, which only made them laugh harder.

Dream came back to the table, holding a coffee cup with steam spouting out of it and a plastic bottle. He handed George the bottle and sat down very clearly trying not to laugh. George opened the bottle and sniffed the sweet-smelling liquid before taking a small sip. The rich flavor coated his tongue, surprising him with how nice it tasted.

“So?” Dream asked.

“It’s good,” George said quietly. Dream’s face lit up in delight, he shook with laughter, face flushed from wheezing so hard. George just sat there, a blank expression on his face. Irritation coursed through his veins, and if he could turn red, he would have. After a few moments, Dream calmed down and took a swig of his still steaming drink.

“Anyways,” he said lightly, “We need to talk.”

“I suggest you hurry up, I’m already frustrated with you.”

“Ohhhh, you’re frustrated?” Dream said, wiggling his eyebrows. He is met with a glare so strong, that if looks could kill, he would've been smited.

“Why did you bring me here?” George's voice is serious, and Dream immediately loses his care-free demeanor.

“I need your help.” The quick transition from teasing to seriousness surprises George a bit.

“With?”

“Whoever took your angel, took someone from me, someone very important to me. I want him back.”

“Who was taken?” Dream seemed to contemplate answering this question before giving in.

“My best friend, and right-hand man, Sapnap.”

“So why do you need me?” George questioned. Dream sighed.

“I already have my best working on it, and they aren’t coming up with anything. So I thought I’d get a new perspective, and you seem…. different, from other angels, you seem like someone who would actually help me instead of stabbing me in the back.” A subtle pride glows in George’s stomach, Dream trusts him? He quickly shook off the feeling and returned his head to the conversation.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Vengeance. You very obviously want this killer dead, so I would like to propose a deal,” George’s interest peaked, “I help you, you help me, we both get what we want. No backstabbing involved.”

“What's the catch?”

“Hmm?”

“There's always a catch.”

“You can’t tell any angels about this deal,” George crossed his arms,” and before you say anything. I want to ask you: Is being an honest angel really worth letting this freak walk free?” George considered this in his head. Angels were meant to be virtuous and loyal, and this deal wouldn’t help him be either of those things. Revenge wasn’t a very heavenly thing either. But, once again, he heard a small voice whisper to him.

“Fine. I‘ll take your deal,” George concluded. Dream smiled.

“That's the answer I was hoping for,” he stuck out his hand. After staring at it for a few moments, George reached out and grabbed it. He shook his hand firmly, and just like that, the deal was sealed. It was time to get to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this a coffee shop au now?
> 
> as always constructive criticism is accepted an appreciate  
> thank you to those of you who left kudos and comments <3
> 
> (ps. is it obvious I wrote this very late at night?)  
> (pss. ten points to whoever can guess who the barista is)


	7. chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George finds himself in a nightmare he can't wake up from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another long wait, enjoy the new chapter :)

A scream echoed through the alleyway. The blood-curdling noise was laced with terror and death, but no one was around to hear it. _No one would have helped him anyway._

His head screamed with warnings and he writhed under the hands that held him to the floor. Tall figures stood in a circle around him, some holding on and some just watching him scream. Calloused hands pushed down on him, his legs, his arms, his wings. His own blade was being run up and down his body, each cut eliciting a broken sob.

 _Make it stop, please_ , he begged internally, pressing his eyes shut. A new weight settled on his chest, constricting his wings further, and shortening his breaths. A finger tapped on his forehead. His swollen eyes peeled open. A man was sitting with a knee on his chest. The upper half of the man's face was concealed by a mask, one designed to look like a ram, complete with large horns spiraling out from his temples. The man tapped his face again and sighed.

“I would love to know what's in this little angel brain of yours,” His mouth curved into a psychotic smile, “Why don’t we find out?” He looked behind him and nodded.

From the circle of people, one stepped forward. This one’s mask shaped like a pig, tusks jotting out like large teeth. His mouth was pressed in a grim line as he walked closer and knelt down beside the pinned angel. He leaned down to the angel’s ear.

“This will hurt,” he said in a deep monotone voice. He sat back up with the ghost of a smile on his face.

 _No. No. NO_. He began to thrash wildly, but it was futile, the rough hands just pushed him down harder. The pigman reached his hand out slowly and set it on his temple.

Everything went dark, and hot pain raged in his mind as if a dagger was being driven through his skull. He could think of nothing but pain, his body begging for death. Please, he said to no one, asking for nothing.

 _George_ , a small voice whispered in the back of his mind, he tried to listen but his mind was consumed by heat and agony. _GEORGE_ , the voice whispered louder, unheard again.

After what felt like an eternity, the assault subsided but the pain remained, blurring his thoughts. He could hear noises outside, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, terror still coursing through his body. The voices began to get angry. Long fingers pried his eyes open and he whimpered.

“See? Not dead,” one voice said.

“You should be thankful for that,” a glimmer of malice spiked through his words, “I want to kill him myself.” George’s eyes shot open, widened in panic.

He didn’t have time to do anything but scream as a silver blade came arcing down towards his chest. No blade pierced him however, it was resting with the tip slightly pushed into his chest. The ram man held it to him, relishing in the angel's fear.

“Night Night, Angel,” he mocked before driving the blade into George’s chest.

* * *

“George!” strong arms pulled him back, ripping his hand off of the Imprint. He screamed and thrashed, stuck in the memory. “Hey, hey, it's over, it's over.” Dream eased, his voice like an ice cube in George’s brain. The angel was pressed back into Dream's arms, with Georges back to his chest. Harsh, irregular breaths pushed out of George's lungs, and his face was tracked with tears. _So this is what it feels like. To be afriad. To hurt._

Dream continued to mutter soothing words, rubbing circles into George’s sides. His hand brushed up over George's forehead to smooth back his hair.

George began to writhe in Dream arms, and let out panicked whimpers. Dream turned George around to face him, hands resting on George’s shoulders.. Brown eyes stared into gold (green). He was silent, but the stare spoke so many words that it didn’t matter, George stopped thrashing. A small whimper slipped out of George's mouth. The fear that still lurked in his eyes was heartbreaking. Dream pulled him into a hug, and George melted into him.

He finally remembered what he had been doing before, they had come back to continue their investigations and George had offered to comb through the Imprint’s memories. _What a stupid idea it had been._ George pressed his forehead into the Dream’s shoulder. His eyes slowly closed and he went limp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is based on a real nightmare I had the other night lol (not with these characters though)  
> as always constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated  
> much love to those of you who have left kudos, comments, and bookmarked it <3  
> I never expected people to actually read my story, and seeing all the nice comments makes me really happy, thank you, everyone!  
> see you soon with a longer chapter <3


	8. chapter seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream simps (?)  
> I don't know how to describe this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy the new chapter lovelies <3
> 
> make sure to drink some water and have a snack :)
> 
> (a longer chapter is being released tomorrow or Friday)

**_Dream_ **

What an unlikely sight this was, a demon holding an angel in his arms. The soft weight of the angel pressed into him, warm and solid. George was still shaking slightly, the tension practically radiating off of him. 

George’s thin arms were thrown limply around Dream’s neck and his face was pressed into Dream’s shoulder. Dream’s hands had wandered up and begun to stroke George's hair. Dream knew that when George would come to his senses, he would be irritated at him, but right now, George relaxed into the demon's soft touch. 

He had not expected the angel to be so affected by the Imprint, angels weren’t usually influenced by regular emotions. Nor did they trust demons enough to fall limp into their arms. George was different, however, he seemed slightly more… _ human? _

George shifted in his arms, and Dream looked down at him, admiring his placid face. The sharp angles of his face seemed softer, it appeared as if he was asleep. A frown stretched onto Dream’s face, angels don’t sleep. He adjusted George so that he could see him fully. The angel seemed fine upon first look, but a closer inspection showed that his aura was lacking its usual luster. A common enough occurrence, it usually meant an angel's grace was diminished, but Dream had never heard of a case where the affected angel would go into a sleeplike state. He shrugged, it was probably just one more unique thing about George.

The cold harsh brick of the wall pressed into his back, making it ache. He couldn’t sit there all night, and there was only one place he could really take George, but the angel wouldn’t be happy about it. A deep sigh released itself from his lips. An annoyed angel was not something he wanted to deal with.

Dream glanced down at George. Taking him was the best option, George would understand that.  _ Right? _ Eventually, Dream gave in, and he stood, scooping George up with him. The angel stayed unmoving in Dream’s arms, even as a dark wind carried them away.

**_George_ **

He felt safe. So much safer than before. The darkness blanketed him and he was wrapped in a strong warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahhahahahahaha help me  
> what do we think about some occasional Dream POV?
> 
> as always constructive criticism is accepted and appreciated  
> thank you all so much for the support, I never thought people would actually find this  
> I'm going to attempt to upload longer chapters at least once weekly, with some other shorter chapters thrown in throughout  
> make sure to take care of yourselves :)  
> much love <3


	9. chapter eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George awakens in an unfamiliar place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy the new chapter!  
> make sure to have some water and a snack <3

He awoke to soft sheets and morning light trickling into his eyes. His vision blurred for a few moments before settling into clarity. No hint of grogginess or fatigue crossed his face, only alertness, and confusion. As he sat up, the soft blue blanket that had been laid over him slipped off his chest and fell to hang around his hips.

His dark eyes scanned over the room warily. It was neat and almost completely blank. There were only six things in the room: a bed, a dresser, a mirror, a chair, a curtained window, and George. The cream-colored walls were void of any photos or paintings and were decorated only by the stream of light that was leaking from the small gap in the navy blue curtains. 

_ How had he gotten here?  _ George racked his brain for any clues about the events of the previous night, and how they had led to his arrival in this unfamiliar place. The last thing he could remember was the coffee shop and shaking Dream’s hand.

_ Dream. _ That wretched demon was most likely the reason George was here and couldn’t remember any recent events. Annoyance crept up George’s spine and he had a strong urge to berate the demon, despite his absence. George also had to fight the urge to berate himself.  _ Why had he agreed to help Dream in the first place?  _ Did he feel sorry for the demon? No. How could he have felt bad for him? George had taken the deal because he knew it would help him accomplish  _ his _ goal. Now, it was time to get back to work. 

George swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. The door to the room opened on silent hinges, and he peeked outwards into the hallway. It was empty and quiet. The silence bounced off the walls and placed an unsettling feeling in the pit of George’s stomach. This did not feel like a place he was meant to be.

The hallways were painted the same cream shade as the bedroom, but these walls had pictures on them. Pictures of buildings, people, plants, nature. It was a collage of chaos. Several faces were repeated throughout the display. A dark-haired man with amber eyes and tanned skin, a tall boy with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and an even taller man with fluffy brown hair and round eyeglasses. One particular photo, in particular, caught his eye. They were all clustered together in a photo booth, Dream in the center sporting his morbid mask, slightly askew, with the others flanking him. The blonde-haired boy looked as if he had just told a joke. The man with glasses looked as if he were trying to pretend it wasn’t funny, but there was a light in his eyes that gave away his true feelings. The dark-haired man was laughing in the photo, his smile luminous and slightly mischievous. Dream’s face was covered, but his crooked mask revealed a sliver of a smile, and his posture proved that he was shaking with laughter.

George’s mouth quirked up into a happy smile, he could practically feel the emotion radiating off the image. He wondered who the people were,  _ Was one of them Sapnap? Wilbur?  _ The smile faded from his face,  _ Are they all demons?  _ He had always viewed demons as ruthless cold-hearted malefactors. These people looked so  _ happy,  _ so  _ normal,  _ confusion rustled in his brain. He reached out and took the photo from the wall, folding it up and putting it in his pocket.

There were a total of five doors in the hallway, excluding the one he had come from. As George continued down the hall, he rattled the handle of each door, finding the first three locked, and the fourth only hiding a sleek bathroom. The fifth door swung open easily to reveal another bedroom, more filled in than the one he had been in. The walls were coated in a shade of yellowy-green, and a lot of the furnishings were the same shade, including the comforter of the massive four-poster bed pushed against the far back wall. 

George opened the door fully and crept inside. The room was filled with stuff, little trinkets, even more photos, and George could even see the faint outline of star stickers on the ceiling. He wandered over to a small desk in the corner, which had a sleek silver laptop sitting on top of it. He sat in the chair and opened the drawers. Most contained stationary or more tchotchkes, but the top drawer on his left-hand side was the home to a circular porcelain mask, with a creepy smile penned on it. George shuddered,  _ was this Dream’s room? _

He lifted the mask from the drawer and began to lift it to cover his face when he heard a small sound from behind him. He whipped around, expecting to see some type of demon, or even Dream himself. Instead, he saw a small tortoiseshell cat sitting in the doorway. 

A feisty mewl came out of its mouth before it strutted over to George and sat down in front of him, staring into his eyes like it could read all of his sins. George was a little cautious, but he sunk down to his knees in front of the cat and stuck out his hand.

She, he had a feeling it was a she, brought her nose forward to sniff his hand delicately. He murmured a soft greeting. After she had decided he was worthy, she began to butt her head up against his palm.

George stroked her head lightly, and she began to purr, a soft humming sound filling the room. He smiled and gave her a little scratch behind the ear. She was a beautiful cat, different shades of brown and gold splotched across her body. He stood, ready to move on, but the cat mewled at him again and stared up at him with big beautiful eyes.

“All right, I’ll bring you with me,” he said to the cat, scooping her up against his chest. She snuggled into his arms, happy. He exited Dream’s room, closing the door behind him, continuing until he came to a staircase.

George strode down the stairs, into a large open living area. The color scheme was creamy white with splashes of color, and the decor was a mix of the endearing clutter of Dream's room and the minimalistic vibe of the other room. It reminded him of Dream.

A clatter came from a part of the area that was partially hidden. George strode over to investigate, still holding the cat. What he saw was somewhat confusing and captivating. 

Dream was standing in the kitchen, holding a piece of paper in one hand and a measuring cup in the other. His face was void of the morbid mask he favored. His hair was ruffled, and he looked frustrated, a light flush was creeping up his neck. Spread on the counter was an assortment of ingredients and a bowl. 

Dream muttered a swear as he looked between the paper and the bowl. George snorted lightly at the vexation on his face. He looked up and spotted George. 

“Hey! You are alive,” he proclaimed, “I was starting to worry.” George tilted his head in confusion but chose to ignore the comment.

“Where are we?” he asked, still looking around.

“Well um. This is my house,” Dream admitted sheepishly, “It's about fifteen minutes from the city.”

“Oh.” The cat began to meow at Dream expectantly, and his eyes finally caught on her.

“Huh,” Dream marveled, “Patches doesn’t usually let strangers get near her. She’s usually really antisocial,” He set down the paper and measuring cup and walked over to George and Patches. He scratched between her ears and she purred in response. “I guess she likes you.” George shrugged.

“What are you doing?” He asked, nodding towards the mess on the counter. Dream grimaced.

“Making pancakes?” He said this as if he didn’t even know what he was doing. He brought up a hand and scratched the back of his neck, “It's not going too well,” he admitted defeatedly. George snorted a little. Dream glared at him before returning to his previous task. George's eyes traced the room scanning over the cabinets.

“How did we end up here?” Dream glanced up at him.

“Do you not remember?” George shook his head, “Well uh, after we finished the deal, you said that we should head back to the Imprint and you could check the memories. I was a bit reluctant but you insisted. We went back and you put your hand on it and then instantly went into a daze. After a few seconds, you started screaming and talking to yourself, I tried to call to you but you wouldn’t wake up,” Dream's face was slightly paled, “It was kind of scary. You eventually woke up, and uh, you were really shaken up, so I- uh”

“You what?” A light flush spread over Dream's face, highlighting his freckles. 

“I hugged you,” he admitted. A matching blush covered George's face and the two looked away, “It seemed to calm you down so I didn’t stop. Then you sort of fell asleep, which I’ve never heard of being a thing for angels, and I kind of freaked out a bit, but I assume you were recharging.” George nodded. “Sorry about the whole… hugging you thing. I’m sure you’re kind of uncomfortable about it.”

“Oh, uh no, it’s fine. Thanks for being there I guess.” The truth was, George was happy Dream had taken care of him. The only story that George had been told about Dream was one that made him seem like a villain, but every time that George had been around him, the demon had proved it wrong in some way. Dream was smiling proudly.

“No problem,” he said happily, “I hope I’m right that you don’t hate me, even if I am a demon, because I definitely don’t hate you.” George did not hate Dream, he had at first when he assumed that he was a cold-hearted killer, but now he knew what a dork he was. 

“I suppose you aren’t  _ too _ horrible,” Dream scoffed, “but I seem to be doing all the work in this investigation.”

“Well then, I guess my  _ new lead  _ means nothing to you then.” George’s eyes widened slightly.

“Wait no, tell me, tell me,” George pleaded. Dream wheezed lightly at the desperation in his tone.

“Fine,” he said, “But first, I want to finish my pancakes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure this is my longest chapter ha  
> I accidentally deleted my first draft of it so I had to rewrite the entire thing from memory :( but I ended up really liking how this chapter turned out :)  
> Also thank you guys so much for 40 kudos and 600 hits, I love and appreciate all of you so much <3  
> as always constructive criticism is accepted and appreciated!
> 
> make sure to take care of yourself <3  
> Happy Weekend!


	10. chapter nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream explains a few things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all very much so I decided to upload again <3  
> Enjoy the new chapter!

After much struggle and a lot of syrup, Dream finished his pancakes and was ready to tell George about what had happened. They had moved to the living room, Dream was sitting curled up in an armchair, and George was sitting stick straight on the couch.

“So,” Dream began, “I should probably tell you about what happened to Sapnap I guess.”

“It probably would be useful,” George said dryly. Not picking up on the sarcasm in his tone, Dream continued without even glaring at him.

“Well, Sap and I have always been together. When I was King of Hell, he was my second in command, and despite his recklessness, he was strong and brave” Dream stopped for a second and smiled, as if he was recalling a past memory of Sapnap, “Lately, he’s been even more rash, he’s been sneaking out without telling anyone where he is going and not returning for a long time,” George laughs at the motherly tone Dream has taken on, “Hey! I get he’s a demon and he can do things by himself, but… I worry. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to him.” Dreams face dropped and he glanced at the floor.

“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine. He doesn’t sound like the type to go easily.”

“Oh he definitely isn’t, his stubbornness is legendary. I remember one time he...” Dream trailed off. He dropped his face into his hands. George was startled, the shift had occurred too quickly for him to process. He reached over and awkwardly patted him on the back. Dream looked up at him judgmentally. 

“If you don’t want to continue, I can just tap into your memory,” George offers. Dream sits up immediately, terror briefly flashing across his face.

“No, uh, it’s ok. I can tell the story,” he draws in a deep breath, “As I said, he had been leaving home at absurd hours and not coming back for a while. I never said anything, I just assumed he was committing some form of crime.” George gawked at the casual way Dream had said this, but Dream didn’t acknowledge it. “Then one night, he never came back, I started to worry, more than usual. I thought he had been detained. Then I got this.” From his pocket, Dream pulled out a folded up note. George unfolded it and scanned over it quickly. It was written in neat cursive, and read:

_ I know you, but you do not know me. I know you well enough to assume that you are a person who cares about your friends quite a lot. You would do anything for them. I also know you are a man of great influence and strength. I believe we can help each other. It is suggested that you do not attempt anything… rash. I will be in touch. - A friend, if you want.  _

When George finished reading, he looked up at Dream.

“When I first got it, I didn’t think anything of it, I ignored it. And then, they sent me this,” Dream pulled out a white headband. He clutched it so tightly, that his knuckles whitened. “He wears this headband every damn day,” he said, voice breaking, “That’s how I knew it was real, that's how I knew they had him. I don’t think he’s dead, I haven’t tried anything, but I have to get him back, I don’t trust those lunatics,” His breath shuddered, “I can still hear you screaming. What they must have done to that angel, I can’t imagine. That can’t happen to Sap.” 

George could vaguely remember the memories he had accessed. Even now, when he barely remembered it, the pain he had felt in his mind made his vision blur. He shuddered. “No creature deserves what happened to that angel,” George said, “One of them got into his mind. I can’t remember much about it, but, God, I remember the pain and terror that the angel felt. It felt like a knife was being dragged over his brain. They were tearing apart his mind.” Dream’s face had gone pale, and George could only imagine the scenarios about Sapnap’s well-being that were running through his brain. “They wouldn’t do that to Sapnap. I’m sure of it, they obviously want something from you, and I assume that they know you well enough to realize that if they even lay a hand on Sapnap you would never help them,” This seemed to calm him a bit, “My only question is, if it's not an angel or a demon doing this, then who is?”

“I don’t know,” Dream admitted, “Maybe a group of witches or some other type of monster.”

“You mentioned a lead?”

“Right, I have a way to find Sapnap,” George’s eyes widened a bit.

“That's good, when are you going to do it?”

“That's the problem. I can’t do it,” George cocked his head to the side in confusion, “It’s a spell, a powerful one, above my level for certain. I have someone to do it, but she’s a bit… difficult to work with.” 

“Who?” George asked.

“Do you remember the barista from the cafe?”

“The one who swore at you and laughed at me?”

“Yep. That's her,” George grimaced and Dream chuckled, “Minx is great, she's just very spirited. Plus she is a powerful witch, who I call on from time to time. The only problem is she requests payment. Not in money form, but usually in the form of an errand for her.”

“That doesn’t sound too difficult, are we meeting her soon?”

“Trust me, her errands are complicated. I asked her to meet us tonight. Until then we can just hang out or something.” Dreams voice highlighted with hope in this last section. George hesitated for a second.

“I should probably go back to heaven and check-in before Phil comes looking for me, sorry. I’ll meet you where?”

“Oh ok. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, meet me at the Imprint at around 5:00 tonight, ok?”

“Alright. See you then,” George rose off the couch and vanished, leaving Dream alone. A small dazed smile came across his face.

“Yeah, see you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shoutout to the white monster that powered me through this 2 AM writing sesh
> 
> wow, we went from 600 hits to 700 hits overnight, thank you all so much :)
> 
> as always constructive criticism is accepted and appreciated
> 
> thank you all so much for the kudos and comments!
> 
> I just want to say quickly that no matter what, you are LOVED and you are WORTH it, and you MATTER. especially to me :) so take care of yourself, have some water and make sure to eat something today <3  
> Have a nice weekend everyone :)


	11. chapter ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George meet Minx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT??? I STARTED A SEMI-CONSISTENT UPLOAD SCHEDULE !?!?!?!?!
> 
> enjoy the new chapter <3  
> make sure to have some water and a snack too :)

It was five pm, and the shadowy path of the alleyway was shrouded in the dim light of dusk. George had arrived on Earth at the exact time Dream had told him, but it seemed he was still late. Dream was waiting for him, pacing in circles around the interstice. 

When George’s eyes first landed on the dark Imprint, his stomach coiled in disgust and his hands quivered. His mind began to wander to the dark corners of his consciousness, and he was only snapped out of it when, in a bright voice, Dream called out to him.

“George! You’re here!” Dream had the energy of an excited toddler. 

“Are you ready?” George asked. Dream's bright facade faltered a bit before resting in a placid position. He nodded.

“I’m ready to bring him home, and if that means dealing with Minx I’ll do it,” Dream said calmly.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“Oh, uh, it’s a club that Minx frequents, she said to meet her there. Only the most important guests can get into it, the guest list is pretty exclusive.” 

“How did you manage to get in then?” George asked, teasing. Dream’s mouth quirked up a bit.

“They owed me a favor,” he answered simply, “Now, are you ready?” Dream held his hand out to George. George looked at it quickly before glancing back up at Dream questioningly. “Like I said, exclusive. Only guests can get in.” 

George rolled his eyes before reluctantly taking Dream’s hand. A rush of cool darkness whisked the two away, brushing through their phantom bodies. While angel travel was instantaneous and natural, demon traveling left a tingle in George’s hands and feet as well as chills running up his arms and neck.

When the two rematerialized, they were standing in a large room that was filled with flashing lights, blaring music, and lots of people. Not just people, vampires and demons and spirits, all dancing and singing together. The rush of ardent emotion flooded George’s soul and tantalized him with its rawness. The multicolored lights washed over him and the booming music echoed through his chest. He felt as if he was still in the phantom form he took when traveling via angelic or demonic power, and all these things were passing through him.

A light squeeze of his hand drew him back into his solid body. Dream was looking down at him, an amused expression on his face.

“Never been to a club before?” George shook his head while continuing to rake his eyes across the riveting scene. Dream wheezed lightly and dropped his hand. He nodded over towards a wall lined with booths. Most were empty, the occupants having charged to the dance floor. George recognized the woman sitting in the corner booth as the barista from the cafe, Minx. Her dramatically lined eyes followed them as they approached her, and her accented voice rang out in a greeting.

“Dream,” she said, her eyes roved over George, “and  _ friend _ ,” she winked at them and George frowned.

“Minx, it is fantastic to see you again, but I’m going to get to the point. I need a spell,” Dream said, sliding into the velvet-lined booth.

“Who doesn’t?” Minx remarked sarcastically, “What do you need it for, if I may ask?”

“Sapnap was kidnapped, Minx rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

“I fucking knew it. I always said the dumbass would get himself caught, the daft cu-” Dream slammed his hands over George's ears and his eyes widened

“Minx!” Dream cried out, “Filter yourself! His innocent angel brain might explode from all those profanities!” Minx gasped.

“My apologies!” She declared in an over the top voice, George glared at them, and they both fell into hysterical cackling laughter. George sat staring straight ahead with a blank expression on his face. After several seconds, their amused giggles faded. Dreams face was flushed and his eyes were bright, and Minx was in a similar state.

“Are you finished?” George asked in an irritated manner, “We don’t have much time.” 

“Right,” Minx said, “So who took the idiot and where is he now?”

“We don’t know, that's why we need the spell. To locate him.”

“Of course you do, and of course, I need my payment.” Dream nodded.

“What do you need us to do?” Minx smirked before settling back against the dark velvet of the booth. 

“I know exactly what I need. It appears that recently, someone has been stealing from me. The most recent thing they took was something important to me. I need it back.”

“Alright, easy enough,” Dream commented, “Where do we find this  _ person. _ ”

“Theodore Sencen lives on an estate just outside of Miami, very fortified, lots of valuables. I imagine that it will be warded against demons and other spirits, but,” she said, nodding to George, “I doubt he’s thought to ward it against angels.”

“Got it, should be simple enough,” Dream stated, indifferent.

“Wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Theo’s a real pain in my ass, and,” she added grimly, “When he dies, he’s not going up or down.” George raised an eyebrow at her. “He’s being sent to the Void,” George’s jaw slackened, the Void was the place for corrupted angels, wicked demons, and bloodthirsty gods, how could a human end up there?

“How?” George asked intently. Minx shrugged.

“Time has warped his story so much it's impossible to know, but I wouldn’t ever want to see his face.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Dream said.

“If anyone can do it, it's you, idiot. A little angel power never hurt either,” she said, somewhat encouraging. “I’ll send you the details, but I have to be on my way.” Dream nodded and she muttered a few words before vanishing.

“I guess we should get started,” George said, casting a look over at the people dancing and swaying to the pulsating beat.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and dance?” Dream teased. George actually considered this for a moment before shaking his head. “Maybe some other day. Let's get going Georgie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate dialogue very much :) 
> 
> irrelevant but i am such a hoe for tbhyourelame (seriously go read everything she has ever written)
> 
> what are we thinking about this chapter?
> 
> as always constructive criticism is accepted and appreciated  
> thank you guys so much for 800+ hits and all the kudos, comments, and bookmarks I am so amazed by the amount of support I have gotten for this so far <3
> 
> side note: I just want to say that no matter what, you MATTER and you are LOVED (especially by me<3)   
> take care of yourself and get some sleep please :)  
> happy weekend !


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